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Apr 2016
Outstretched hands
I'm governed by a cycle of choices
Wash.
Rinse.
Repeat.

Dirt under my fingernails
I listen to a thousand voices
Wash.
Rinse.
Repeat.

Gripping a shovel
I break earth and hit layers of shale
Break.
Stop.
Withdraw.

Eight barren harvests
Yielding no fruits, just broken, rusted locks
Break.
Stop.
Withdraw.

I suppose by now my disposition is bitter
The gravitas courses these bloodless veins
Write.
Speak.
Destroy.

I collect no glee from your failure
Nor scintillating coins that rattle like chains around feet.
I just write.
Speak.
Destroy.
Chris Thomas
Written by
Chris Thomas  43/M/Knoxville, Tennessee, USA
(43/M/Knoxville, Tennessee, USA)   
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